


your days were born in blood and fires

by UniqueChimera



Category: Fate/EXTRA, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: 5 Things, 5 Times, Enkidu as Hakuno's nameless Berserker, Gen, POV Second Person, can you chat with the king of heroes, pre-fate/extra ccc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniqueChimera/pseuds/UniqueChimera
Summary: your past was pain and iron(5 things Hakuno Kishinami will never remember)
Relationships: Enkidu & Kishinami Hakuno, Gilgamesh | Archer & Kishinami Hakuno
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	your days were born in blood and fires

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Heart_of_Targness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heart_of_Targness/gifts).



> Hope you like this gift!! Happy Yuletide!  
> I'm not as familiar with fate/extra as I am with fate/extra ccc so some of the character and setting stuff may not be super accurate.  
> Title is from the graphic novel From Hell  
> Most of Gilgamesh's dialogue is taken from or paraphrased from the Can You Chat with the King of Heroes minigame.

**One**

Your Servant appears to you as a dark pile of mud, oozing across the floor like chocolate sauce. When it twines itself around your arm, its texture reminds you of the way hard candy feels on your tongue. You hold your hand out and it dribbles into your palm with a delighted chirrup. You smile and stroke it, the way you would stroke a cat’s fur. 

When it is shy, it settles into your pockets like dark sediment. With people it knows—Rin, Rani, Taiga-sensei—it creeps up your neck and turns lime green to say hello. Once, Leo Harway asks to pet it. It trills when he sets his hand on its flank, and he stares at it with a look of shocked wonder.

In the Arena it likes to transform into a long chain that winds around your body, armor and weapon both. When you rub your thumb over its spiked, golden tip it purrs. 

It squeals when it sees the trees outside the school for the first time. You watch as its skin erupts into brown and gold. The edges of it curve and sharpen into beaks and claws. It flies to the top of a tree with a joyous squawk, its newfound wings blotting out the sun.

Later, Rin will tell you that this is a Berserker. Your will wonder how your Servant entered this class. It has the gentlest soul you have ever encountered.

**Two**

“Oh, it’s the mongrel.”

You have met this man before. His golden armor blinds you, his gaze as red and intense as a raging inferno. 

“To be so thin-skinned as to think nothing of frequenting the king’s sanctum...”

This man is a king? Where have you met a king before?

“Unfortunately, it is still too early for me to wake.”

He smirks. His golden earrings sway when he tips his head.

“If you want to spend some time with me, you will have to provide some entertainment.”

What could you do to entertain him? A memory floats to the surface of your thoughts—your Servant curling up under the noonday sun, humming a tune without a mouth or a throat.

“I-I’ll sing.”

The man cradles his cheek with a gauntleted hand. “Then sing, mongrel, as your soul commands.”

You wet your lips with your tongue, and clear your throat. With a deep breath, you begin to sing.

After the first notes leave your lips, a strange expression settles on his face. You steel yourself and finish the lilting tune.

“Where did you learn that tune?” 

All traces of humor have left the man’s face. His voice is hoarse.

“M-my Servant—” 

“So you are a Master? Hm.” The main raises a golden eyebrow. A strand of hair the shape and color of lightning falls over his forehead.

“I had forgotten the beauty of the human soul and body, but I will remember this performance of yours.”

He flicks his wrist. “Leave, now.”

You sink into deep, dreamless sleep.

**Three**

For your match with Shinji, the Arena has transformed into an underwater graveyard. Bubbles dribble out of your mouth when you exhale. Your Servant’s surface shimmers into silver scales, and it swims at your side as a lanky sea serpent.

Shinji’s Rider guffaws from the stern of  _ The Flying Dutchman _ . Her cannons shake the seafloor when they fire, rattling the carcasses of downed ships and the willowy strands of seaweed that cling to them. Your Servant weaves through the water, a silvery blur amidst the golden flare of cannon fire. You crouch behind a rotting crow’s nest and watch as your Servant splits into a thousand gleaming chains. That golden spike you’ve stroked so many times buries itself in Rider’s throat.

In the privacy of your room you grieve for Shinji, who despite everything was your friend and a child besides. Your Servant shifts into a lime-furred lion and lays its head on your lap. As you pet its soft mane, you realize that Rider’s blood is still drying on its muzzle.

**Four**

“It’s the mongrel, isn’t it. I can tell by your presence.”

Once again you kneel before this golden king. You cannot remember his name, but in flashes of half-forgotten dreams you have seen him drink and do battle with a lime-haired person at his side. That person’s smile reminds you of something, but you are not sure why.

“Now, it appears that time is almost up.”

He looks away, his finger tapping against the side of his throne. 

“I have you seen you meet your end, swallowed into nothingness and vanishing without a trace.”

You stand up, your legs trembling. What does he mean?

He looks back at you, his face uncharacteristically serious. “Tell your Servant that I am waiting for them on the Far Side. If your voice can reach me, then perhaps—”

You wake up.

Your Servant is a lime-feathered hen, dozing on your stomach. You stroke its tail feathers. It blinks sleepiness from its eyes and looks at you.

“T-the king.” You hate how your voice shakes. “The golden king is waiting for you. On the Far Side.”

Your Servant’s eyes flicker. It seems like it understands.

**Five**

The ground shudders and screams beneath you. The walls of the school dissolve into pixels. Knotted tree branches shoot up in their place, twining around each other and sprouting purple flowers. You can hear someone crying out. 

One of the flowers falls onto your face. You pick it up. It is a lavender cherry blossom, its center the delicate white of new snow. 

With a start, you realize Sakura is the one who is shouting.

You try to stand with unsteady legs, but slim fingers close around your wrist. You turn around. It is the lime-haired youth from your dreams. Their eyes are the tawny green of duckweed. A white shift billows around their body. 

You try to yank your wrist out of their grip. “Let me go!”

“No, Hakuno.” The person smiles. Why does their voice sound so familiar? “I will not let you die.”

You frown. “Who are you?”

They place their hand over yours. Your thumb strokes their knuckles. You do not know why. “Gilgamesh will keep you safe. Do not fear.”

“Who is—”

The ground collapses beneath you. You feel something inside of you sever, and you fall into an endless pit lined with budding cherry blossoms.


End file.
